


I'm A Slut For Sans

by SansIsVertabae



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Lotsa Smut, No Plot/Plotless, Oneshot collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader Has Issues, Reader Is Not Chara, Reader Is Not Frisk, Sans you beautiful soul you, Smut, Still bad at tagging, but they can hear them?, fuel for the fire, get tangled in them bones, hooo boy i'm a sinner, i mean if you really want them to be frisk or chara go ahead i wont judge you pedophile, just assume all the chapters are explicit or started out that way, pelvis scratching, pointless smut, pretty sure we're actually talking about the author here, reader can't touch souls, reader is female, reader is pathetic, reader jacks off to sans, reader wishes sans was real, reader's true love is a game character, rest of the chapters sans will be real, rib groping, sans isn't real in the first chapter, soul staring, spine groping, summary is basically for chapter one, tra la la beware the woman who is bad at tagging, unless the author becomes pathetic again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 12:19:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7757614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SansIsVertabae/pseuds/SansIsVertabae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It had started out as a curiosity, his mysterious yet laid-back personality interesting you. He was just another game character, you told yourself. You just wanted to know more about his backstory. You had never been one to get involved in fictional characters, the obsession that followed with a pathetic crush over something not real was almost heartbreaking. Pitiful, even. So when you found yourself wrapped up in the Undertale fandom, because of one certain skeleton, you had really surprised yourself. </p><p>At first, it was a platonic relationship. You only wanted to be his friend, to get to know him a little more. So you read fluffy PG SansXReaders, slowly and unconsciously falling for the punster. Soon, friendship wasn't enough. You didn't want to feel cared about, you wanted to feel loved. When you read the first smutfic, you knew you were in deep.</p><p>And you didn't care.</p><p>If this was happiness, why deny yourself of it?"</p><p>A collection of Sham's biggest skele-kinks. The shit-ton of cliches is real, but meh. It's still sinning. </p><p>Each chapter title will include "I'm A Slut For"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm A Slut For Sans

**Author's Note:**

> Mmmmnfhhh. I shat this out. 7 AM, tired asf. Was about to go to bed, then I was like "What if I put my favorite Sans kinks and cliches in one collection?" and then that wouldn't leave my brain. So I wrote this. Um. I hope it's good? Honestly this is my life at this point, I'm way too Sans obsessed.
> 
> So, what's going on here is in each chapter Imma write a different Sans thing that I really really like to read on here. So basically, something I'm a slut for. Yeah. Now you get it? Heh. Clever, right? I know. Thanks. WELL I'M GONNA GO TO BED NOW! HOPE YOU ENJOYED, SINNERS!

You writhed under him, pleasure coursing through your entire being. God, how could he make you feel this good? You felt his cool hand sliding down your body, wriggling it's way into your underwear to cup your mound "fuck... ______... you're so wet..." he groaned, phalanges already tracing your slit, causing delicious shivers to run through you. 

"S-Sans," you moaned, rolling your hips towards him in a desperate need for more friction. He traced your opening with a phalanx, just barely dipping in, causing your frustration to heighten in the most perfect way. "Please," you shuddered, grasping the sides of his t-shirt and pulling him flush against you. He chuckled darkly, slowly sinking one of his fingers into you, crooking it sharply once it hilted inside you. You cried out as he brushed your walls, instinctively tightening around him. He inhaled sharply, feeling you convulse around his finger, pulling out just as slowly as he had entered, only to thrust back in with another joining it. 

"you're so tight, kitten.. so wet and warm... and all for me," his voice was a low growl against your ear as he finger-fucked you, brushing against a spot that made you see stars with each thrust. God, you were close already. He spread his phalanges, scissoring you roughly, the sharp bones of his fingers pressing hard against your walls, causing a sort of pain that was on the precipice of pleasure. He suddenly withdrew entirely, giving you only a second's prepare before he slammed his phalanges back in, a third joined with them, curling them and pressing sharply into your G-spot. You screamed loudly as an intense wave of pleasure ripped through you.

So loud, that you woke up.

Your breathing was deep and heavy, and it took you a moment to realize your hand was shoved unceremoniously down your pants. This had happened before, and you were normally quick to pull your hands away and wallow in shame and self-pity. But this time you were so close, teetering on the edge of euphoria. You moved your fingers slightly, pleasure racking through you at the soft movement. You cried out at your unexpected sensitivity, your pleasured daze making your own fingers feel less like your own and more like Sans' (or at least, what you assumed his would feel like.)

"Saaaaans," you keened, tilting your hips, fingers thrusting furiously into yourself. 'cum for me' it was a soft, low voice, echoing in your mind and you couldn't help but obey the phantom voice, flying off the edge, your orgasm causing your entire body to tense up. You chanted his name, still working yourself quickly, bringing tears of over-stimulation to your eyes. You wanted this to last forever, you never wanted to lose the feeling of Sans' fingers in you, his image bright in your mind. You never wanted to come back down from your high.

But you did.

Your breathing slowed, and you stared up at the ceiling in a confused daze. Your fantasy had felt so real, you had lost yourself in it. And as you came down to Earth, your brain unhelpfully reminded yourself that Sans was a video game character, someone you'd never have. You'd never truly feel him inside you, never get to hear his laugh, never even get to touch him. You took in a shaky breath and, overwhelmed with emotions, you began to cry. You were pathetic, shameful, disgusting. Masturbating to a character, longing you could feel his true touch. It'd never happen. You were pitiful.

And you didn't care.


	2. I'm A Slut For Sensitive Bones (Alternatively, Sans is not Obi-Wan Kenobi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "During a late night watching television, you hear his soul calling for yours and without the knowledge of how to answer, you do the next best thing."
> 
> You make Sans cum on a couch. Bone petting, bone play. No glowy dicks here, freaks (next chapter, i promise) Mentions of soul play? I mean, I dunno, the reader can hear Sans' soul and shit. Oh, also I kinda headcannon that you can see Sans' soul where a heart would be. Y'know, like near the left center if his ribs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o hey finally the author got off her lazy ass and updated.
> 
> My wi-fi decided to go FUCK YOU! And my entire schedule revolves around the internet. So I kind of just became a bed hermit for a while because it's boring as shit when your schedule just flies out the window. 
> 
> Anyhow, I really wanted to start out with sensitive bones, because it's one of the rarer cliche's out there. The sexualizing Sans without actually giving him any genitals cliche. I really, REALLY love sensitive bones because squirmy-wormy sub Sans just does it for me. -eyebrow wiggle- I made this one with extra fluff, because we can't just sin. It's gotta be a little sweet. Right? So I added some soul shit. What's sweeter than soul shit? Also, you're welcome. Now everytime you see Obi Wan's lightsaber, you'll think of Sans' penis. (i don't watch star wars, don't hold that joke against me now ;3;)
> 
> Without further ado, here's your sin dirty skeleton fuckers (says the one who freely admits that it's one of her skele-kinks)

It was late at night and you and Sans were both on the couch watching television. You were laying against Sans, head resting against his rib cage with your arms wrapped around his waist. He had an arm draped over you, and though the gesture seemed lazy at first, the way his hand was slightly squeezing you gave a feel of protectiveness. You gave a happy sigh, snuggling closer into him, eyes drooping in a sleepy daze. 

Sans' chest rose and fell under you and the concept of his need to breathe was still strangely foreign to you, but he felt so alive under you. He had always joked around about how he was a walking Halloween decoration, but you didn't see him as that. He was just Sans to you, and you didn't care how he looked because it was just his body. But that wasn't how he saw it. It had taken a very long time before he finally got over himself enough to be with you more intimately and when that night came, you carefully filled him with every ounce of your love and desire. After that, you vowed to yourself to do it again and again until he never doubted your love or felt embarrassed around you again.

You sighed, pulling yourself from your reminiscing and focusing on the steady rise and fall of your boyfriend's chest. Beneath his shirt his soul hummed softly, a low droning noise that was caused by his energy. Some unknown part of you, a voice resonating deep within you, told you that he was calling for you, his soul aching for yours. You wanted to answer, craved to, and your grip around his waist tightened. You already knew that he could hear your soul, and you knew as a judge monster he could see it. You hoped he could tell you wanted to answer his call.

The humming grew steadily louder.

You sat up suddenly, calling his name softly and shuffling into his lap. His cheeks were dusted with a soft blue color and his eye sockets lidded, though his gaze full of desire. "I love you." you spoke softly.

"i love you too," his reply was immediate, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"No," you slid a hand over to his chest, holding it across where you knew his soul rested safe and hidden under his shirt. "I love you." you repeated. His eyes widened in understanding. You slid your hands down to the hem of his shirt, your gaze never leaving his as you slowly lifted it up and over his head. After his shirt was discarded, his hands found their place on your hips, grip tight as he held you to him.

Your eyes immediately fell to his soul, bright and pulsating, encased in his ribcage, within your reach but physically outside of your grasp. You reached up for the rib below his soul, scratching along the curve. He inhaled sharply, pressing his hips into you. He was already so worked up. 

"so good," he praised you softly as your other hand moved to twist around his spine. "y-you're so perfect." You leaned into him, licking a long stripe up his collarbone and pulling a choked moan from him. He arched into you and as he did you slid your clenched fist up his spine as high as your current position would allow. 

"oooooh-- shit!" he cried "oh my fucking god... you're so amazing, i can't believe you're touching me like this. thank you, i love you, you're so perfect, i need you, i need- AH!" his babbling was cut off when you used your hands to scratch the tops of his hipbones. You pressed your palms into them, his high pitched keening filling you with the determination to make him come. "more please! please! i'm- ah! i'm so close!" he was out of it, his body violently shaking, constant cries escaping his clenched teeth. You stuffed a hand down his shorts, dragging your nails roughly across the crest of his pelvis, and he was thrown over the edge.

Because he has no genitals, there is no physical way to know he's coming. It's all in his body language. It's all in the way he arches into you as much as possible, holding you as close as he can while he goes deathly still. It's all in the way his soul brightens in his chest, so much so that you almost have to look away so you aren't blinded by it's intensity. 

You untangle yourself from him carefully once he slumps back against the couch, well-aware that the smallest touch to his currently hyper-sensitive bones would send him quickly into a painful over stimulation. He looks at you, blissed out, as you move yourself out of his lap to sit on the couch and lean against his shoulder.

"remind me to return the favor."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had intended for that to be longer. and better. i really really tried for that to be good, but i guess only shit came out. APPARENTLY I'M THAT ONE SINNER WHO CAN ONLY WRITE WITH GENITALS.


End file.
